Softly for a Moment Come
by RoyalCordelia
Summary: Summary: During Anne and Gilbert's first Christmas together as an engaged couple, they get snowed in (Missing moment for Windy Poplars). A secret santa present for Chyoonah on tumblr.


**Merry Christmas everyone! I was Chyoonah's secret santa this year (If you haven't checked her out on tumblr, she's amazing and talented! One of her pieces is my phone background, I'm not kidding). She asked for a fic about Anne and Gilbert's first Christmas together, so here it is. I hope you enjoy this!**

 _Green Gables_  
 _The Avenue_  
 _Avonlea, PEI_  
 _Friday, December 22nd._

Dearest Gilbert,

You'll be more than pleased to know that I made it home safely to Green Gables. PEI snow storms did seem to put up quite a protest against any and all travels that weren't short of perilous, but I remained headstrong through the delays and tempests.

Oh, how marvelous it is to finally be home! I say there is nothing as revitalizing as the smell of Mrs. Lynde's sweet bread surrounding the hearthflame of Green Gables. It was a short lived peace, with Davy imbued with Christmas excitement. Before I had even taken my snowladen coats off, he had stormed upon me with a tale of a family who's poor home had burned down from Christmas candles. I can remember when he was just a wee lad asking questions like "Why do we put candles on trees if they're just going to fall over and catch the house on fire, Anne? I want to know." But things seem to be in fine form around this dear, old place. I do enjoy my time on the Summerside corner of our island, but there is nothing like watching the fairy moon shining on the crystal fields of Avonlea.

In regards to your last letter, Gilbert, I fear I cannot hide all my disappointment that you will not be home for Christmas, but I understand that your academic responsibilities take precedence. Please do take care that you're not working yourself into the ground. One face off with Typhoid was quite enough for all of us, I should think. And your poor mother! I fear that we may have to go visit her to lighten her spirits during this first Christmas without you. Her loneliness may be too great for even your father to weather alone. But fear not, Dr-Blythe-to-be, for I've many stories of the students up my sleeves that will have her crying with laughter! You've heard a great deal of them already, but if you should like to hear _all_ of them then you'll have to come home and hear them yourself.

I must apologize, my love, for I fear that news of your staying in Kingsport has stripped me of a commendatory pen. Tomorrow, I shall make your own lonely Christmas worthwhile with plenty of reading material that will be sure to keep you warm in the frosty weather. Until then, I remain

Ever yours,

Anne Shirley

For the first time in weeks, Green Gables was quiet. Anne looked out over the home, the warm candle light dispersed throughout the rooms, giving the white walls a comforting orange tone. She'd done well for her childhood home, she thought. Marilla and Mrs. Lynde had gone to Nova Scotia for the weekend to visit Thomas' old relatives on what "...is absolutely their last Christmas on this blessed earth, Marilla! You cannot leave me to endure them alone. They're just dreadful." This left Anne in charge of preparing the home for Christmas, dusting the windows, baking pastries, and decorating the table with as much beauty as she could. Her efforts certainly paid off. The house looked...enchanting.

"Anne, is there anything you need help with?" a gentle voice came from the doorway. She looked up from the dough of her last minute biscuits and laid eyes on the strangely quiet Davy leaning against the doorframe. The boy, nearly fourteen, looked upon Anne with embarrassed, soft eyes.

"Come here, Davy boy," Anne said gently and wrapped a sisterly arm around his shoulders. "How do these look?"

Davy eyed the baked cookies laid out on the counter, trying his best to discern the odd little shapes Anne had cut out. It seemed the baking had caused them to expand most unattractively, making them unrecognizable.

"What are they supposed to be?" he asked cautiously.

"Christmas trees!" Anne cried.

"Any tree would be offended if they saw that. Bet they taste good enough, though."

"I appreciate your attempts to spare my feelings," she said somewhat bitterly, giving his blonde hair a rustle with a floury hand. "For your honesty, you may finish setting the table. Plates and silverware, please!"

Davy groaned, but made for the cupboard with the nice Christmas china on sulky feet.

"Four places?" he asked, half interested.

"Actually, Gilbert will be staying in Kingsport this holiday, so just three."

"Ain't it bad manners to back out of a scheduled commitment? That's what Marilla says."

"David Keith!" Anne scolded. "He has a lot of responsibilities in medical school and he'd be here if he could. I thought you liked Gilbert!"

"I like him enough, I s'pose. Just wish he'd move in _here_ at Green Gables instead of taking you away when you get married."

Anne's indignation got caught in her throat. She found a rag to wipe the flour off her hands and turned to the young boy.

"You know that's not the way of things. Besides, there's still two and a half years before that happens. I think by that time, I'll be quite ready to start a new life in my own home. It doesn't mean you'll never see me again."

When she looked up, she met eyes with the vulnerable six-year-old boy who had behaved for no one but her, and wondered if maybe she shouldn't wish away the few Green Gables Christmases she had left. Anne pressed a kiss into his hair, chuckling at the way he shucked her off, then went to go place her dirty apron in the laundry. As she untied the knot behind her back, she peered out the frosty window and into the night. Snow clouds filled the sky like smoke, but Anne seemed to catch a magical moment where the they had parted just enough to let in the light of the full moon. It might blizzard soon, but for now, this Christmas Eve was peaceful and perfect.

A knock came at the door, then. Ever prepared for unexpected company, Anne checked her reflection in the window. Smiling at the flour that powdered her cheekbones and nose, she wiped at her face and called out, "Davy, could you see who that is, please?"

As the front door opened, Anne listened intently to hear what she expected to be some familiar Avonlea voice - perhaps Mr. Harrison with some last Christmas gifts for the twins? But instead, the conversation at the door was too quiet for Anne to hear.

That is, until Davy let out a frustrated, "Oh bully, now I gotta set another place, after all. _Anne_!"

Curiosity sent Anne tumbling out toward the front door, but she froze when she saw the snow covered man just inside the threshold.

Gilbert Blythe, in all his medical student glory, stood with the look of a man who had just regained twenty years onto his life. His warm hazel eyes fixed onto her with the longing of a man transfixed by a siren, his features more manly than they were even four months ago when he'd moved back to Kingsport. Underneath the suit that was wrinkled from travel, his three coats, and the confident air of a Redmond scholar, he was still the same old Gilbert. Anne couldn't move, half inclined to stare at the beloved man before her until her heart had indeed had its fill.

Just as Gilbert opened his mouth to break the silence, Anne let out of a blissful cry and launched herself into his arms. He caught her as easily as if he'd been doing it his whole life, dropping his small satchel of presents to the ground and wrapping his strong arms around her.

"Oh, sweetheart, I have missed you," he murmured, running his hands over the softness of her hair. "Were there ways to begin to tell you…"

"I don't understand. I thought you had decided to stay in Kingsport!" she cried, digging her face into the nook of his neck between peppering kisses to his cheek.

Gilbert pulled back enough so that he could take her pale face in his hands, examining her with adoration.

"The last time I was in school, I worked myself into a near grave. And at what cost? Anne, I'm going to medical school for _you_ and everyone else I care for. I intend to make sure I honor you in that time. No paper or exam is worth more than what we've built and what we're still creating together."

Anne felt her throat closing and moisture filling her eyes.

"You're sure you won't fall behind? I'd hate if you-"

"Anne," Gilbert interrupted with a lingering kiss on her cheek. "I've just traveled across land and sea to come rest my weary self in your arms. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Content with this reply, Anne secured her freckled arms around him, leaned up onto her toes, and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. Then he was in her embrace again, tucked firmly against her for longer than was likely proper, even for their engaged status.

"Anne, I'm sorry I slept so long. I…" The tiny voice trailed off in horror as Anne peeled herself away from Gilbert and looked down at a blushing Dora.

"Look who decided to come to dinner, after all," Anne said kindly. Dora's gaze met Gilbert's, then immediately fell to the floor where her shoes were tucked tightly together.

"Hello Dora," Gilbert greeted with a gentle nature only seen in mothers, teachers, and doctors.

"Good evening, Mr. Blythe," Dora replied. "You are, of course, welcome to dinner anytime."

Gilbert sent Anne an amused glance.

"Marilla is certainly doing a number on this one. Unlike some other young ladies she raised up."

"I'll have you know _Mr. Blythe,"_ Anne sneered, "that I am a perfect hostess. Did I not fulfill your most pressing requests upon your arrival?"

"You absolutely did, darling, and then some," Gilbert flirted with a wink.

Dora, having been embarrassed enough for a lifetime and dreading the day that she would be put under such careful male attention, scurried into the kitchen to check on the bird roasting in the oven.

Alone in the alcove of the Green Gables doorway, Anne became aware of Gilbert's thumb caressing a light touch over her knuckles. While the silence of the house still persisted, he let his arms fall around her waist and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. Anne fought against the urge to close her eyes and whimper.

"The house looks lovely, Anne."

"I wanted to do something nice for Marilla since she's been so good to me all these years. At first, I tried to pay her back for the time that she and Matthew sacrificed so that I might attend Queens, but she simply wouldn't accept it. I told her she might use it to send Dora and Davy to school, but she refused and said, 'Anne Shirley, I am perfectly capable of providing for my own children, just as the good Lord intended I should.' Who am I to argue with the good Lord? So I cleaned the house and made it a Christmas heaven instead."

"You're a marvel, did you know?"

Perhaps in the corners of her mind, she did know, but she certainly wasn't opposed to Gilbert reminding her when he desired to do so. Anne smiled to herself and took her fiance's hand.

"Come along, dearest. I've a warm meal and good company waiting for you."

Gilbert conquered Christmas Eve dinner with as much valiant strength and finesse as an ancient greek cart racer. He'd say that Anne made it easy, with a meal more delicious than anything he'd had in ages and a smile that his heart had been born to keen to. But then there was Davy sitting directly next to him, asking him questions like _Why do people turn green when they're sick?_ and _Have you seen any dead bodies?_ Dora herself had turned green at the line of questioning, causing Anne to give both young men a stern look.

"It's just science, sweetheart," Gilbert attempted, shielding Davy from Anne's wrath.

"It's inappropriate for Christmas dinner, _dearest_ ," she responded just as kindly, but all present at the table understood the warning loud and clear. After that, Anne and Gilbert had gifted the children with stories of their own youth. They discovered with a thrill that there were more stories than they originally thought.

"When did you first confess your love to Anne?" Dora asked shyly. Anne set down her fork and glanced at Gilbert, unsure if the humiliating, unfortunate mishap of Gilbert's first proposal was really the Christmas cheer she wanted to share at the table. But the beloved man took it in stride and looked at Dora very seriously.

"Oh, I suppose I was perhaps not much older than you. Certainly still an Avonlea schoolboy."

" _What_?" Anne said. Ignoring her shock, Gilbert continued.

"I was reciting at a concert being held in Charlottetown. Our Anne was there in attendance."

"Gilbert Blythe!" came Anne's second interjection. She'd begun to suspect where this was headed.

"What did you recite?" Dora asked anxiously. Gilbert's brows shot into his hair at her eagerness, but he answered with simple pride.

"'Bingen on the Rhine.'"

"That one isn't very romantic," Dora said, deflating a little.

"Oh, but it is!" Gilbert reached across the table to grab Anne's hand, giving it a playful squeeze when she finally relented. Then with an intense passion in his eyes that unsettled everyone at the table, he said in a low voice, " _There's another - not a sister; in the happy days gone by, You'd have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye...I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine On the vine-clad hills of Bingen, - sweet Bingen on the Rhine._ "

The blush that had risen on Dora's small cheeks was nothing compared to the red fire that had overtaken every bit of Anne. They'd been hardly older than children then, their lives on the precipice of new dawns that would bring them closer to each other. She vaguely remembered Diana mentioning that he'd spoken those lines, gaze fixed directly on her, but hadn't spare more than a lingering thought.

But Gilbert... If she was to guess correctly, all of his thoughts had lingered on _her._

"Even then?" she whispered. He nodded, honest and warm.

"That's a good first confession," Dora conceded.

"I thought so. What say you, Anne?"

To say what she was really thinking - that perhaps Gilbert's issue had not been in the wording, but in the _timing_ \- would have been unkind, especially when she was guilty of so many follies herself. But if this had been Gilbert's first confession, that meant the beginning of their romance did not have to begin with the tragical proposal at Patty's Place. Instead, the unfolding of their love had begun in their school days when things were uncomplicated and earnest.

"I think it's perfect," she said finally.

"Well _I_ think I'm surprised you even like her after she ignored your confession, Gilbert," Davy cut in, stuffing a roasted potato into his mouth. "If that were me, I'd have married someone else just to spite her. Girl's aren't worth the trouble."

"I don't know," Gilbert said with a smile that seemed to belong all to himself. "I think you'll find that the right one can be more than worth it."

A short time after dinner was finished, Anne sat on the sofa, watching with interest the handsome silhouette standing at the window. He cut quite the figure - all broad shoulders of strapping edges and upper arms that Anne had caught herself staring at on more than one occasion. Recently it was not hard to imagine why many of the Redmond girls had vied for the interest of their football captain, and to have his heart and his future all to herself, Anne found herself quite pleased.

"What's the prognosis, doctor?" she said with a yawn. Gilbert set his hands on his hips and shot her a wary glance over his shoulder.

"The snow isn't letting up anytime soon," he replied in a strange voice. "If I mean to make it home in one piece, I should probably head back."

Anne's back straightened. She glanced out of the window, unable to anything past the wild gusts of snow whirling around the farm.

"Absolutely not," she stated resolutely. Gilbert hadn't turned to face her, likely weighing the implications of his potential stay in his conscience. Anne had no worries of her own. Gilbert Blythe was known as the perfect Avonlea gentlemen. He'd keep his respectful distance from all boundaries that could not be crossed and treat her with the utmost care.

She trusted him. That was enough.

Anne crept up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist so that she may lean her chin on his shoulder and gaze out the window with him. "I'm not inclined to risk you out in this weather anytime soon. Besides, your mother would break off our engagement herself if I allowed you to travel home in this weather."

"I couldn't possibly intrude," he argued, beginning to face her, but Anne tightened her grip.

"If I recall correctly, Mr. Blythe, I believe I consented to you intruding on my life for the rest of our earthly and divine days. In fact, I think I want you to intrude."

Anne cooing in his ear was enough to weaken his defenses. After only six months of being engaged, she'd devised several coquettish tactics to absolutely dissolve her beloved man. Remembering these skills, she ran her fingers in featherlike caresses up and down his arm, knowing how much he thrilled in the gooseflesh that resulted. Then she moved to stand beside him, running her nails across his shoulder blades and bringing her lips to the underside of his jaw. Gilbert let out a shaky exhale, leaning into her touch with closed eyes.

"Marilla won't be upset to come home and find me here?" he whispered, resolve dissolving.

"She trusts you. I do too."

"I don't quite trust myself at the moment," he croaked in a low, gravely voice.

Anne, realizing that maybe her persuasive strategies were working _too_ well, pulled back and leaned against the arm of the sofa.

"I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do, dearest, but it would ease my my heart if you let me make up the guest bedroom for you."

Gilbert saw the sincerity in her eyes and gave a small sigh.

"Alright sweetheart, I concede."

Anne had always known that Gilbert belonged in her life, but it was over the course of the next several hours that she realized just how much. With the twins in bed, Anne and Gilbert were free to spend time together without interruption or peering stares from uncomfortable siblings. Needing some quiet, they sat on the couch leaning up against each other, reading a book of their choosing - Anne, rereading her favorite sections of _Jane Eyre,_ Gilbert, pouring over the medical text he'd been carrying around. Before them, the hearthfire emitted a heat that warmed holly onto their cheeks. Anne had lit candles around the room to give it a comfortable light, and it was like that they sat while the blizzard outside raged on.

Eventually, Anne's heart had been filled to the brim with romantic dreamings and suddenly her longing wasn't for silence, but to take in the presence of her beloved. She set down her book and turned to Gilbert, who didn't move, but merely looked up and quirked a brow.

"Gilbert, what time of day would you like to get married?" Gilbert considered this.

"Morning, I think." He folded the corner of his page, a practice that usually made Anne cringe, and closed the book. "Have you tired of reading?"

"Oh, I never truly tire of reading, but I began to miss you more. Can we just...talk?"

It was all Gilbert needed to hear. He tossed the book over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her closer. His breath mixed with hers until his lips were pressed against her cheek as if to say _I thought you'd never ask._ When he pulled back, Anne found herself analyzing the way his skin looked like molten gold in the candlelight.

"Do you have any qualms with marrying in the morning?" he asked.

"No, but Marilla might if it's _too_ early in the morning and she doesn't have enough time to make the necessary preparations." Gilbert laughed.

"I thought you wanted a small, intimate wedding. How many people are you planning on inviting?"

"Only the people dearest to us, but I also think that most of Avonlea would believe themselves cheated if we didn't invite them. Were it up to me, you and I would wake up and journey to the heart of the grove and just _be_ married. Can't you imagine, Gil? Just you and I saying our vows in the breath of the trees and birdsong?"

It made him homesick for days that hadn't occurred, days that wouldn't occur for over two years.

"That sounds perfect, sweetheart. It truly does."

They met eyes and for a moment, Anne feared they might actually elope in such a way for it was so tempting. Then an uninvited thought dragged the floating girl back to reality and she rubbed Gilbert's hands in hers.

"Diana would have me killed," she mourned. "She set aside some of Aunt Jo's inheritance so that I might buy the wedding dress of my dreams, knowing fully that I'd spent everything I'd been left on Redmond. It seems I've come a long way from my wincey dress days."

"I'll have you know you were in your wincey dress days when I fell in love with you," Gilbert said lightly.

"A reality that I cannot even fathom," Anne replied. "But I am forever grateful that you did."

Gilbert went quiet for a few moments and he gazed down at her with such fondness that Anne couldn't help but blush. He seemed to be remembering something - Their first meeting? Sunset walks down Lover's Lane? His second proposal and her acceptance?

"I think I'd like to give your present now," he murmured, the intensity in his eyes remaining.

"Don't you want to wait until the morning?" she asked with a small smile. Gilbert shook his head and reached down into his pocket. He pulled out a small package wrapped in brown paper and handed it to her. Running her finger over the blue ribbon he'd chosen, Anne felt all her nerves vibrating.

"I want you to open it when no one is here but us," he decided.

She tore into the package with care, pulling the paper back as if it were a holy object. It revealed a wooden box the same auburn color as Anne's hair, with honey in the grain and a shimmery top. It didn't take a B.A. in English to know what it was.

"Gilbert…" she murmured, feeling tears springing up in her eyes.

"It's alright, Anne-girl. Just open it."

A gasp escaped her lips when she finally did open it. Placed in the velvet of the sweet box was a simple golden band of pearls and small amethyst jewels. It was a humble thing, bought by a medical student living off of crumbs, but it was everything Anne had ever wanted. She'd expected they'd discuss troth rings closer to the wedding, after more arrangements had been made and Gilbert had saved up more money.

She hadn't said anything, or even reacted beyond a shocked look on her face, and Gilbert wondered if he had missed the mark. He _thought_ the ring would be perfect for Anne, but perhaps he didn't know her tastes as well as he fancied.

"Anne, darling, say something," he said nervously. Her storm cloud eyes snapped up to his and he found them filled with tears.

"Gil, it's...It's _breathtaking._ How did you know I didn't like diamonds?"

He shrugged.

"I just saw it and thought of you. You like it?"

"I've never seen a more lovely piece of jewelry in my life! But how did you afford to-"

"Don't worry about any of that, Anne. You remember how many jobs I worked while we were at Redmond. The Cooper takes care of the majority of my medical school expenses and I always knew that this would be something I'd want to get for you."

Anne ran her fingertip over the smooth jewels, blinking furiously. She couldn't told him how she didn't feel she deserved him and his endless faith. How she could barely believe he always _knew_ she'd come around to him, even when the whole world was telling him differently. How it was when he did things like this that she felt a heavy remorse for ever breaking his heart at all. Instead she settled on,

"I love you terribly, Gil."

Gilbert smiled adoringly, his own eyes looking a little shimmery.

"I love you too," he murmured back.

There it was again, that tangible chemistry that sparked between them in the silence. It lit a longing in Anne for his touch and attention. She needed to feel his warmth on her face, wrap him in her arms and hold him close enough that she could feel his heartbeat. She wanted to keep speaking the way lovers do and breathe in the balsam smell of Christmas.

Before she could make up her mind of which one she wanted to pursue first, Gilbert had swept forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The first months of their engagement had been nothing like this. In the early months, the struggle had been in learning to navigate the newness of a romantic relationship. _It'll be just like we were,_ Anne had insisted. Gilbert agreed to a point - _Except now I can kiss you and hold you and tell you that I love you._ It sounded simple in theory, but all their kisses and touches had been experiments. What made the other careen, sigh, laugh? Some things had grown more familiar, but none of them had ever been like this.

This was _kissing_ \- improper, passionate, dizzying. Anne had only read about kisses like this in her books, where couples teetered the edge of propriety and lovesick insanity, but now she was experiencing it. To her amazement, she discovered that all of it had been right. Her heart _was_ about to beat out of her chest, his touch _did_ turn her liquid fire, and without even thinking about it, she'd opened her mouth to him to let him taste her.

Chest to chest, Anne let her fingers wrap around the soft feathers of his hair. When she gave a little tug, a yearning little gasp left his lips. He gave a little push until she was leaning against the armrest of the sofa, his lips on her neck and her hands clutching at his shoulders to keep from falling over. He smelled of Avonlea snowfalls and tasted of brown sugar. Anne wondered what her own taste was.

Behind them, the clock chimed it's midnight call and a different sort of thrill went through Anne.

"Gilbert," Anne gasped, the sound a little like she was calling for help. He pulled back immediately, chest heaving and hair wild. With a smile she pointed to the clock, "It's Christmas."

A dazed, happy smile lifted his lips and he leaned down to press one last kiss to her cheek.

"Merry Christmas, my love."

Anne returned the gesture, lingering against his skin to cherish the feeling.

"Merry Christmas, Gil. Thank you for coming home."

Wrapped in her arms and laying against her, he was home. He could have traveled anywhere in the world, battled every natural disaster mother nature could throw at him, and still return to this woman with the same adoration he felt on that first day. As he drifted off to sleep, a dozing redhead in his arms, he knew one thing above all.

The new year could bring with it new challenges, but as long as there were moments like these where he could hold his love and breathe in her essence, he'd live his life content. _This_ was the beginning of the dreams of their future finally seeing fruition.


End file.
